


in the daylight

by CutiePi



Series: casphardt week 2019 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childhood, First Kiss, M/M, Pre-Canon, just a couple of baby boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 11:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21298937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CutiePi/pseuds/CutiePi
Summary: Caspar gives Linhardt his first kiss.
Series: casphardt week 2019 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535426
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61





	in the daylight

**Author's Note:**

> written for day 1 of casphardt week: childhood/firsts!!
> 
> theyre like 9 in this

It’s a perfect day for a nap–-the clouds filter the sunlight, so it’s not  _ too _ bright, and there’s a gentle breeze that keeps the air cool, even for late summer,  _ and _ Father will be in meetings all day, so he can’t bother Linhardt if he decides to go outside and nap under a tree instead of studying with his boring tutor. The conditions are perfect for a nap, which is why Linhardt cannot  _ believe _ he isn’t napping right now.

Instead, he’s running (ugh), Caspar leading the way, his sweaty hand holding Linhardt’s as he laughs like a maniac. The boys behind them are still shouting, but getting quieter as the distance between them increases and Linhardt gets more and more tired. Finally, it gets to be too much, and he flops down on the ground, wrenching Caspar to a halt.

“Ow! Lin, hey!”

“I’m tired. I can’t believe you made me run so early in the morning.” Linhardt has already closed his eyes and feels sleep calling him, wrapping around him like a warm blanket. Caspar’s still holding his hand.

“Lin, c-don’t fall asleep! Those guys could still catch up to us!” Caspar tugs on his arm, and Linhardt groans. He is  _ not _ running anywhere, at least not for the rest of the day and, if he can help it, not for the rest of the month or year or his life, ideally.

“That sounds like a you problem. You’re the one who provoked them, after all, and I was just standing there–”

“Sitting. You were sleeping on the ground,  _ again _ .”

“ _ Dozing _ , Caspar. There’s a huge difference between sleeping and dozing.”

He’s not looking, but he can tell that Caspar’s throwing his arms up in exasperation. Because he knows him so well, but also because there’s a sharp tug on his arm. “I don’t even know what dozing is!”

“I’m dozing right now, Caspar. But I’d  _ like _ to be sleeping, so shush.”

Caspar grumbles indistinctly for a few moments before, apparently, giving up and settling next to Linhardt on the ground. In doing so, he finally lets go of his hand, and Linhardt tries not to feel disappointed. Still, this way Linhardt can return to napping on this perfect nap-day, so he doesn’t complain.

But he can’t fall asleep.

He cracks an eye open to glare at Caspar. “Will you stop fidgeting?” he asks, or means to ask, but the sentence peters out when he gets a closer look at what Caspar is doing. He’s running a hand along the side of his head, light as a feather, and wincing a bit. Linhardt’s awake now, and he abruptly realizes he’s sitting upright, too.

“Uh,” Caspar says, apparently realizing he’s been caught in the act. “I’m fine?”

Linhardt, frowning, reaches out to touch the side of Caspar’s head, but he barely brushes the short spikey softness of Caspar’s hair before he flinches away, sucking a breath through his teeth. “What happened?” Linhardt asks, already reaching for his inner Faith, or whatever his magic tutor was always going on about. He doesn’t really understand what “inner Faith” actually  _ is _ , but he can’t tell his tutor that, and in any case he’s always able to use it in practical situations anyway. Which mostly means when Caspar gets himself hurt.

“I, uh, guess one of those guys got a hit on me, ha. I’m alright, though, it just stings a little-oh,” he finishes with a little whisper as Linhardt’s Faith finally kicks in. “Oh, thank you.”

“I can’t believe one of those boys hit you in the head and you didn’t think to say anything,” Linhardt grumbles, wholly focused on the bruise beginning to bloom under Caspar’s shock of hair.

“I mean, it hurt, sure, but it’s no big deal. It’s not like those guys were  _ that _ strong.”

“It’s not about strong, Caspar, it’s about permanent brain damage.”

“You can’t get that from a little knock in the head!” He hesitates for a second. “Uh, can you?”

Linhardt has no idea, but he thinks Caspar might be right. So what he says is, “Of course you can, dummy, it’s called a concussion. Anyway, you shouldn’t’ve tried it out by getting older boys to beat you up.”

There’d been four of them, but Caspar taking on fights where he’s outnumbered is nothing new. They were all twelve, though, and that was the scary part–-not older than that older brute Caspar calls a brother, but three years older than Linhardt and Caspar themselves. Too big for Caspar to take on by himself.

“Hey, they had it coming, alright? They were being total jerks!”

Linhardt’s not sure about that, but he had been dozing through the whole thing. He only started paying attention when he heard the first hit. He still stands his ground, though. “I’m sure whatever they were doing wasn’t bad enough that you had to step in.”

Caspar goes quiet, and since Linhardt’s done the best he thinks he can do to help the injury on his head, he takes a closer look at his friend. He won’t look him in the eye, and he looks embarrassed. Ashamed. “They were making fun of you,” he says quietly, and anything Linhardt wants to say falls right out of his head. “I know–’they’re just words, Caspar’ and ‘I can take care of myself, Caspar’ and ‘You still shouldn’t pick fights–’”

“You shouldn’t,” Linhardt says seriously. “You can’t keep getting hurt.”

Caspar’s quiet for a long time. “I know,” he whispers. He still seems so ashamed, which Linhardt doesn’t understand. He usually doesn’t care if Linhardt scolds him. “But… but thanks for fixing me up, Lin. Even though I made you run.”

Linhardt would do just about anything to make Caspar stop frowning, so he doesn’t complain. Instead, he says, “Oh, don’t mention it. I’ll always stick around to look after you. That’s what friends are for.”

Caspar looks at him for a long time, and then does something utterly shocking. He surges forward and plants a kiss right on Linhardt’s mouth. Before Linhardt can say or do anything, he’s back to blabbing away and grinning. “Aw, thanks, Linhardt! I’m so glad I can count on you!”

“Caspar,” Linhardt says, blinking. “Did you just  _ kiss _ me?”

“Huh?” Caspar says, a blush starting to rise to his cheeks. “Uh, yeah, I guess. I was just trying to say thanks!”

“People don’t kiss each other to say thanks!”

“Well-no, maybe they don’t, but I think they might? And anyway they  _ do _ kiss to say ‘I love you’, and I love you, so–”

“Our  _ parents _ kiss to say ‘I love you’,” Linhardt says, desperate to make sure Caspar understands. “That’s not the same as how friends love each other. You can’t just go around kissing people.”

“I won’t go around kissing people! I only kissed you to make sure you knew I loved you!”   
  


“Well I know now!” he says. This is so embarrassing. Why can’t Caspar do anything the normal way? “So don’t kiss me again!”

“I won’t! Jeez! I’m sorry!”

“Ugh,” Linhardt complains, flopping back down on the ground. “How exhausting. I can’t believe you kissed me.”   
  


“I said I was sorry,” Caspar grumbles, wiggling around so he’s lying down next to him.

“It’s fine-ugh, it’s  _ fine _ .” It is–-Linhardt doesn’t really mind, but he knows it’s weird, and he and Caspar get made fun of for enough weird things already without going around kissing each other in a friend way. He’s pretty sure no one else kisses in a friend way. “Just don’t do it again, and it’s fine.”

“I won’t,” Caspar says seriously.

“Really?”

“Really! Yeesh! I promise I’ll never kiss you again!”

“Good. Thank you. Well, goodnight.”

“Lin, you can’t just fall asleep-oh, come on, seriously?”

He’s not asleep, not really, but he’s close enough anyway that he doesn’t correct Caspar. That means he feels Caspar scooch in closer next to him, and he hears him whisper, “Sleep well, Linhardt,” and he feels warm contentment in his chest with the knowledge that Caspar is his best friend, and he does love him, and Linhardt–-exhausting as it is–-will always be around to clean up his messes.

Then he falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanna try to do all 7 days of casphardt week so keep an eye out for that!! and also know that tomorrows will definitely be up pretty late lmao
> 
> follow @casphardtweek on twitter to see all the other great content from the week!! and follow me on twitter @atinygayfrog to see my terrible content!! leave a comment if you want and have a great day!!


End file.
